Memories We Have None
by Larabeelady
Summary: Sequel to "A Woman, A Sword and a Grudge." Fourth in the Methos/Charlie stories. How will Methos cope when Charlie is in a serious auto accident? Will she survive? Some bad language and suggestive situations.


As usual, standard disclaimers apply. Theses aren't my guys, and I get no

profit, only the fun of writing about them.

MEMORIES WE HAVE NONE

by Andi Charleville

The man fell to his knees, the sword in his hand falling to the ground as the final surges from the Quickening racked his body. Once his breathing had slowed, he weakly picked up his sword. A hand appeared in front of him, and he accepted the help as he staggered to his feet.

"Gods, MacLeod, you pick the damnedest times to accept a challenge."

"What did you want me to do, Methos? Tell him 'I'm sorry, I can't take your head right now, we're on our way to a party.' It's not like I put an ad in the Tribune asking for someone to come after me tonight."

"You could at least _try_ to keep from getting killed, tonight of all nights. I really don't want to spend my wedding anniversary trying to explain to my wife why you're not coming. It would put a damper on the whole evening."

Duncan halted, and just stared at the man. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Methos. I really appreciate the words of encouragement." He started walking again. "Beats me how Charlie has managed to put up with you for five years."

"My charm and good looks, of course. Although, I do seem to remember hearing her say something last night about my incredibly fantastic body." He pulled his coat tighter around him as the night's chill started to seep in. "Of course, I could have been mistaken about that. I was rather preoccupied at the time by the feel of her tongue..."

Duncan interrupted hastily, "I get the picture. You have no shame, have you?"

Methos chuckled. "When it comes to bragging about how sexy my wife finds me? No. You're just jealous, MacLeod, because Amanda's been away for so long." He tugged at MacLeod's arm. "Now, come on. I would like to get to Joe's in time to enjoy at least _some_ of the party, since he went to the trouble of having it."

"God, and I thought you were antsy on your first anniversary. You couldn't stand still to save your life that night. What have you got up your sleeve now?"

"Oh, no, Highlander. You're not getting away with that this time. Last time, you were laughing so loud, you blew the whole thing before I had a chance to spring it, and you ruined Charlie's surprise. This time, I'm keeping it to myself."

Duncan started laughing again, just thinking about that night. "Well, you have to admit, old man, that the image of you jumping out of a cake like a stripper at a bachelor party was just too funny. I couldn't help it. The minute they started rolling that cake out, I lost it. Sorry." He almost doubled over, remembering the look on Methos' face when he jumped out of that cake at their party.

"Ha, ha, ha. Laugh it up, Kilt boy. Tonight, I've got something planned that Charlie will never forget. I've got to tell you, though, it's been hard, trying to keep it from her. It's not easy living with a psychic." He refused to say another word, even though Duncan kept trying to pump him for more information.

When they reached the tavern, they ignored the sign on the door that read "Closed for private party." They walked inside to a small crowd of people, there to wish 'Adam' and Charlie a happy anniversary.

An older man behind the bar looked up as they walked in. "Well, well, if it isn't the worse half of the happy couple. Adam, old man, have a beer, on the house."

Duncan snorted. "They're all on the house, Joe. I swear, Adam, instead of living in an apartment, you ought to just take up residence in a brewery. It would save a lot of time."

Taking a sip from the glass Joe handed him, then glanced at Duncan. "Yeah, but think of all the employees I'd be putting out of work."

The party was soon going strong, and Charlie still hadn't made an appearance. Duncan and Joe looked around for Methos, thinking that maybe she'd come in, and the two of them had decided to sneak out for some privacy. It was Joe who spotted Methos sitting alone in one of the corner booths. The beer in front of him was untouched. Joe's gut started tightening. Leaning on his cane, he followed Duncan over to the booth.

In a low tone, Duncan asked, "Methos, what's wrong?"

The older immortal shook his head. "Something's wrong with Charlie, but I don't know what. I can still feel our connection, but she's not answering."

Meanwhile, across town, Richie Ryan had just turned his motorcycle around the corner, heading towards Joe's. As he passed by Methos and Charlie's, he couldn't help but notice the police officer who was in front of their door. Pulling the bike over to the curb, he pulled off his helmet just as the officer was coming back down to his car.

"Excuse me, officer, is there a problem?"

"Who's asking?"

"Ryan. Richie Ryan. The people in that apartment are friends of mine."

"I'm looking for Adam Pierson. Do you know where he might be?"

Richie could feel his instincts warring. Should he take this guy to Joe's or not? He really didn't want to interrupt the man's anniversary. "Is it important?"

"Very. I really need to talk to him."

"Well, he and his wife are celebrating their anniversary tonight. There's a party going on for them down at a bar near here. I'm on my way there. You can follow me if you want." In the process of putting on his helmet, he failed to notice the stricken expression on the officer's face.

Pulling up near Joe's, he parked his bike and went in, the officer following behind him. Joe was at the bar, talking to Duncan.

"Hey, guys."

"Who's your friend, Richie?" Duncan asked, eyeing the cop warily.

"I saw him on my way in, knocking on Adam's door. Says he's looking for him." He shot an apologetic look at Duncan. "Sorry, Mac, but he said it was important."

Joe looked at the officer, that knot in his gut getting tighter. He nodded towards the back booth. "Adam's over there. Is there anything we can do?"

The officer glanced back at them, his face grim. "You may want to stay close for a while, just in case."

"Shit," Joe mumbled under his breath. "I don't like the sound of that."

The men kept their eyes on the booth as the officer introduced himself to Adam and sat down. They couldn't hear what was being said, but they knew it wasn't good news when Methos suddenly went deathly pale, and the glass he was holding suddenly broke apart in his hand, glass shards and beer flying everywhere. Duncan was over there in seconds, with Joe and Richie hot on his heels. Grabbing some napkins, he tried to cover Methos' hands, before the officer could see the cuts to his hands start to heal. But he stopped dead when he saw the expression in Methos' eyes.

"Adam?"

He tried again. "Adam, what's wrong? What is it?" Duncan stomach dropped as he saw the tears start to course down Methos' face. He turned to the officer. "For God's sake, what's happened?"

The officer looked up at him, sympathy in his eyes. "Mrs. Pierson was involved in a car accident about two hours ago. Her car was broadsided by a semi."

Duncan looked back at Methos, who still hadn't uttered a word. Turning back to the officer, he asked the one question that he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer to. "How bad?"

"She was airlifted to Memorial Medical Center, in critical condition. That's all I know at this point." Grabbing his hat, the officer stood up, and returned his attention to Methos. "Mr. Pierson, you should get to the hospital as soon as possible. I can take you, if you like."

Methos made no move to get up from the seat, but Duncan could see the faint trembling in the other man's hand. Kneeling down next to the booth, Duncan laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Adam. Adam, look at me." Duncan put a hand to Methos' chin and forced the man's gaze up to meet his. "Adam, we need to get to the hospital."

Methos just stared at Duncan for a moment longer, then a shudder went through his body. His shoulders slumped, and his gaze again fell, but he slowly started moving, scooting across the bench seat and standing up. He staggered as he got to his feet, and Duncan reached out to steady him, just as Methos had done for him earlier in the evening.

Once he was sure that Methos was going to stay upright, he turned and handed the keys to his car to Richie. "I'll go along in the police car with Adam."

Richie nodded. "I'll help Joe finish up here, and then we'll head that way."

Indicating another key on the ring that Richie was holding, Duncan said, "Stop by their apartment on the way and pick him up a change of clothes. I doubt he'll be leaving the hospital for a couple of days."

"Sure, Mac."

As the two immortals started out the door, Methos stopped and turned back to Richie. "Rich, do me a favor," he asked softly. "There's a dreamcatcher on the wall over our bed. Bring it with you, will you?" He waited for Richie's nod, then walked out of the bar.

Joe turned back towards the bar, the crowd now quiet, having realized that something was wrong. Joe sighed. "I don't know how much you all heard, but Charlie's been involved in a car accident. She's in critical condition. Adam and Duncan are on their way to the hospital. We'll try to keep everyone updated, but for now, everyone head on home, okay. And keep Charlie in your prayers."

But instead of moving to the door, the friends that had gathered to celebrate Adam and Charlie's anniversary did the only thing they could think of to help. They grabbed brooms, mops and rags, and started helping get the bar cleaned up.

Mike came over to Joe. "Joe, you and Richie go on. I'll lock up when we're finished. Get going."

Joe leaned tiredly on his cane, his gaze sweeping the room. Then he nodded. "Thanks, Mike. We'll call as soon as we know anything." And he and Richie headed out.

They made a quick stop by Methos' apartment, where Richie stuffed a couple of sweaters and two pair of jeans into a bag he'd found in the closet. Then he took the dreamcatcher down off the wall, handing it to Joe to hold on the way to the hospital, so it wouldn't get damaged.

Once they arrived, they were directed to the waiting area outside the operating rooms. Methos and Duncan were the only occupants. Methos didn't turn around at their entrance, just stood staring out the window into the darkness. Richie put the bag down on a chair.

"What's the word, Mac?"

"Nothing, yet. She's in surgery right now. All they'll tell us is that the doctor will be out to talk to us when they're done. All we can do is wait."

Joe joined Methos at the window, the dreamcatcher still in his hand. He didn't intrude into Methos' silence, just stayed nearby to let the old man know he was there. After several minutes, Methos looked towards him, seeming startled by his presence. Joe silently held up the dreamcatcher to Methos, who reached out and grabbed it, an anchor to reality. Methos nodded jerkily, and returned his gaze out the window. Joe stood near him for a few more minutes, then headed over to Duncan and Richie, and eased down into a chair.

It seemed like hours later, but in reality was only about twenty minutes, when a soft, feminine voice came from the doorway. "Duncan?"

Duncan looked up to see Dr. Anne Lindsay standing in front of him. She looked as beautiful as ever. "Anne, Hi. You're here kind of late, aren't you?"

"I was just finishing rounds, when I saw you. Are you alright?"

Duncan motioned towards Methos, still standing at the window. "It's my friend, Adam. His wife is in surgery. Car accident. We're waiting for news."

Anne smiled softly. "I've got some pull here. Let me see if I can at least get you an update." She disappeared behind the doors marked "authorized personnel only." Anne returned ten minutes later, in scrubs, her expression sad. She glanced at Duncan, but approached Methos at the window.

"Mr. Pierson?" Methos looked at her, his shoulders bracing for the worst. "Mr. Pierson, I'm Dr. Lindsay. I'm a friend of Duncan's. I know how difficult it can be, waiting for news. They're still operating on your wife. She's got a lot of internal bleeding. They've had to remove her spleen." She took a deep breath, before continuing. "She stopped breathing once during surgery, and they were able to revive her. But she's weak. With the blood loss, and the skull fracture she sustained...I'm sorry, it doesn't look good."

Methos didn't move, but his hand tightened around the dreamcatcher he was holding. The tears that had stopped earlier, suddenly threatened again. He nodded, but couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. He sank down into a chair, because he suddenly wasn't sure that his legs would hold him up anymore. Anne turned back to Duncan, sympathy in her gaze. "I wish I could have brought better news, Duncan."

"She's still alive, Anne. That's something, at least."

"I need to go, Duncan. The babysitter needs to get home."

Duncan hugged the woman gently. "Thanks, Anne, for getting some information for us. I appreciate it."

"Anytime, Duncan, you know that. I'll try and keep updated on her progress." She kissed his cheek, which he returned.

"Give Mary a kiss for me, okay?"

While Anne went to say her good-byes to Joe and Richie, Duncan went over and sat down next to Methos. The man looked up at him, those age-old eyes bright with unshed tears, while down the hall, the center of his world fought for life. "Not much you can do here, MacLeod. Go on home, I'll be all right."

"I'm not leaving you to face this alone, old man. I'll be right here. No matter what. Just like you have been for me, when I've needed you."

Methos' face crumbled, as the emotions finally poured out. "God, I don't want to lose her, MacLeod. Not now, not this soon." His shoulders started to shake. Duncan didn't say anything, just gathered the man into an embrace, his body shaking with the force of Methos' sobs.

Charlie did survive the surgery, although the doctors were very guarded about her chances of recovery. After several days with no sign of infection, they finally took her off the ventilator, determining that her lungs could function on their own. The CAT scans weren't as promising.

The doctor explained. "The skull fracture your wife sustained has resulted in a subdural hematoma, or a bruise that is causing swelling inside the skull. We want to go back in and place a shunt in to drain the fluid. Before we can do that, though, we need for her vital signs to stabilize."

"And the coma?" Methos asked.

"Until we've had an opportunity to drain some of the fluid, she'll probably remain in the coma. Once the swelling subsides, then we can see where we stand."

Methos didn't like it, but he knew that the doctors were telling him all they could at this point. He just felt so empty, so alone. She was there, in the bed. So close, and yet so far away from him.

The only time Methos left the hospital was to go home to shower and change clothes. Then he returned to the hospital. He spent his nights sleeping in the waiting room outside of ICU, even though he wasn't allowed in to see her again until the morning visiting hours. He wanted to be close, even if he couldn't be in the same room.

Though his friends were worried about Methos, nothing they could say could get him to leave for long, and no amount of prodding had him doing more than picking at his food. He had lost weight from his lean frame, weight he couldn't afford to loose. His eyes were bloodshot, and the dark bruises underneath them were becoming more and more pronounced. Finally, Charlie's doctor had had enough.

The doctor came into Charlie's room after having talked to the nurse on duty. Methos was trying to stretch his five-minute allowed visiting time to ten. "That's it, Mr. Pierson. You're not doing your wife any good by putting yourself through this. I already have *one* Pierson for a patient, and I don't need another." Methos started to speak, but the doctor held up a hand and stopped him.

"I'll make you a deal, Mr. Pierson. Go home, get a good meal and a full night's sleep. In return, I'll lengthen your visiting time when she returns to ICU after the shunt is placed. We'll allow you to stay longer periods, not just the five minutes they allow every hour. Maybe, one hour visits, with half-hour breaks? How does that sound?"

Methos looked into his eyes, and saw his determination. He smiled slightly, his cynical sense of humor rising, even through his exhaustion. "Tell me, doctor, are you by any chance of Scottish decent?"

The doctor was surprised at the change of subject. "I'm not sure, why?"

"Because right now, you remind me a lot of a certain stubborn Scot I know. He has the same look in his eyes when he's trying to convince me he's right."

The doctor smiled at this. "Your friends are worried about you, Mr. Pierson. So am I. Your wife is going to rely on you to be strong for her. You can't do that if you're so exhausted that you can barely stand up. Please, for her sake as well as your own, leave the hospital, just for a while. Come back tomorrow morning, when visiting hours resume."

Methos sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped in weariness. "Okay, doc, I'll go home. But you'll still call if her condition changes, right?"

"Of course. Just leave the number with the nurse." He made a few notes in the chart, then handed it to the nurse that had just come in. "Keep in mind, you would still have to leave the room immediately if a problem arises. And you still won't be allowed in overnight. But other than that, I think we can probably allow a little more leeway for you, providing you keep taking care of yourself." With a friendly smile, the doctor left to continue his rounds.

Methos gathered up his coat, and placed a soft kiss on Charlie's forehead. The nurse just smiled after him, then went about replacing the IV bag. She accidentally knocked off the small dreamcatcher that Methos had left near Charlie's head. She placed the talisman on the table next to the bed, so it wouldn't get lost the next morning when they changed the sheets.

Methos found Duncan in the waiting room, watching television. Or pretending to. His gaze immediately swung to Methos when the man entered the room. Methos looked a little uncertain. "MacLeod, did you mean what you said about being here for me through all of this?"

"Of course I did. What do you need me to do?"

"The doctor has given me orders to get a good meal, and sleep. But I really don't want to be alone, especially in the apartment. Any chance I could crash at your place?"

Duncan knew how hard it was for the old man to ask for help, and was glad Methos felt comfortable enough to ask him. "No problem." He smirked. "Good thing I just restocked my beer supply."

Even Methos had to smile at that. "Yeah, I could use one. Let me just give the nurse your phone number."

Several hours later, Duncan hurried to answer his phone before it woke Methos. Amanda was on the other end.

"I just got your message. What's happened? How is Charlie? Is she going to be okay? And Methos, how's Methos? Should I fly in? Duncan, answer me!"

Duncan chuckled. "Shut up for a minute, and I will."

"Why are you whispering, Duncan?"

"Because Methos is asleep in my bed, and I don't want to wake him up. He just got to sleep about an hour ago."

"Oh. Okay, I'm calm."

Duncan snorted softly.

"Really. Now, what's going on?"

Duncan relayed all that had happened, including the fact that Charlie was going into surgery again to have the shunt placed. He assured Amanda that Charlie was getting the best care possible, and that he and Joe were making sure that Methos was okay.

"Should I fly in, Duncan?"

"That's really up to you, Amanda. Richie's returned to LA for the motorcycle trials. Methos convinced him that Charlie would have wanted him to go on and race. Right now, there's really nothing you can do here. Methos is the only one allowed to see her, the rest of us are just trying to keep him going."

Amanda was quiet for a minute. "Okay, I'll stay here in Rome, then. But you'll keep me updated, right, Duncan?"

"I'll call if anything changes."

"Duncan, how is Methos doing, really?"

"Not great, Manda. Charlie's doctor finally had to make a deal with him in order to get him to go home for the night. It's been hard on him. He's crashed out over here, because he couldn't stand to go home to the empty apartment. I think this is even worse than when Alexa died."

"Well, he had time to get used to the thought with Alexa. He knew she was dying. Being so unexpected, like this is, has got to be more difficult."

"Like Tessa," Duncan said softly.

"Yeah, like Tessa. I'm glad you're there, Duncan. Methos is, too, even if he doesn't say it. Look, I've got to go. Give Methos my love, okay."

Duncan replaced the receiver, his thoughts wandering back to the night Tessa died. He still missed her, even after all this time. Shaking himself out of his somber mood, he returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning up.

Several days later, Charlie was starting to show signs of waking up. The shunt had been removed. She was responding to verbal commands, and her vitals were stable. They were talking about putting her in a private room the next day, if she remained stable over the next 24 hours. Her doctors were starting to give Methos more optimistic odds of her recovery. Methos was glad, but knew he wouldn't feel better until she opened up her eyes and looked at him. Until she touched his mind with hers.

When she finally woke up, her thoughts and face all spoke of confusion. When her gaze swung around to Methos, he smiled at her. "Hello, love. Welcome back."

Methos' heart dropped with her first, raspy words. "Who...who are you?"

Methos pushed the call button, and told the nurse that she was awake. Minutes later, the doctor came in, and Methos explained what had happened. They sent him down to the waiting room while the doctor examined her.

Both Joe and Duncan were in the waiting room when Methos walked in. They were surprised at the dejected look in his eyes.

"Adam," Duncan said, mindful of the other occupants of the room, "what is it, has something happened?"

"She woke up, MacLeod."

Duncan didn't understand the sadness in his friend's voice. "Isn't that good news?"

"She doesn't remember me, MacLeod. She doesn't know who I am."

"Adam, what does her doctor say?" Joe asked.

"He's examining her right now."

"Then let's just wait until he's done, before we start worrying, okay."

Methos ran his hand through his short hair. "I guess. It's just that, after all the time we've had this 'connection', it feels so strange now, so empty. I mean, I can feel her, but...she's not really there."

By the time the doctor came out of Charlie's room, Methos was close to a nervous breakdown from worrying. He rushed toward the doctor as soon as he saw him. The doctor smiled gently.

"Try not to worry, Mr. Pierson. Your wife has sustained quite a trauma, both with the original fracture, and with the shunt being put in. It's not unusual for some patients to experience some degree of amnesia. Most times, it's temporary and clears up in a few days. You can go back in now, but try not to disturb her. She needs to rest."

Three weeks later, Charlie was well on the way to recovery. Physically, at least. She was responding well to physical therapy, regaining the few motor skills that she had been having trouble with since waking up. But she still hadn't regained her memory. It wasn't just Methos she'd forgotten, but everyone. Even herself. She had to take everyone's word for who she was and what her life was like.

Methos had talked to Charlie's doctors about her psychic gifts. Not wanting Charlie to be upset about any impressions she received, they had given permission for her boss, Dr. Jacobs, to visit Charlie. Dr. Jacobs explained briefly to Charlie about her powers, and about the connection that she and her husband shared. Methos could sense her more easily now, but was wary about what impressions she might get from him.

Before the accident, Charlie had known all about immortals, and about his past, including his time spent with Kronos. But now, with her whole life shrouded in mystery, what would that information do to her? Methos didn't know if he should leave things as they were, hoping that any knowledge she sensed wouldn't do more harm than good. Or should he tell her, and hope she was strong enough to handle it?

It was these questions that had Methos and Duncan knocking on Dr. Lindsay's door on her afternoon off. She came to the door with a child in her arms, both of them covered in paint.

"Duncan, Mr. Pierson. This is a surprise. Mary and I were just finding out how much artistic talent we have, weren't we, sweetie?" She kissed the girl's forehead, just before Mary held out both arms to Duncan, one of her favorite people. Perhaps, because as is the way of all little girls, they know whom they can wrap around their fingers.

Duncan lifted the little girl out of Anne's arms. "Mary, what do you say you and I go finish getting 'painted', and let your Mommy talk to Adam, huh?" And he wandered off down the hall, cooing to Mary.

Methos stepped aside, as Anne closed the door. He looked uncomfortable, hesitant. He wasn't sure where to start.

"You wanted to talk to me about something, Mr. Pierson?"

"Adam, please."

"Okay. Adam. What can I do for you?"

"I...I need to ask your advice. It's about my wife."

"I've been in to see her a couple of times, during my rounds. Can't your wife's doctor help?"

"These questions have to do with a rather...unique characteristic that MacLeod and I share."

"And that would be...?"

"Mac told me that you know about him, about...immortals."

Anne wandered away from the door, into the living room. She took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs, and motioned Methos to sit.

"Are you telling me that you're immortal, too?"

"Yes."

"Well, I can see that this might be a tricky thing to discuss with your wife's physician. I can try to help. What do you need to know?"

Methos went on to explain about Charlie's psychic powers, and their connection to each other. Then he explained about her amnesia.

"The thing is, before the accident, Charlie knew all about me. Even the things in my past that I'm not proud of, things I truly regret doing. I'm just not sure what, if anything, I should tell her. I'd let this run its course, but with our bond, I'm afraid that anything she senses may scare her even more."

"That's a difficult question to answer, Adam. You said that you and Charlie are starting to 'reconnect' your bond with each other. Do you feel that she's strong enough, emotionally, to handle this kind of revelation?"

"Truthfully, doctor, right now, she's scared. I think a lot of it has to do with not having any kind of identity to focus on. She's having to take everyone's word for the truth about her whole life. She's unnerved. I would be, too, in her place."

"When is she due to be released from the hospital?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"Let me do some reading, and I'll check her chart again tonight when I go to do rounds. Maybe that will give me a better idea. Can you come back tomorrow morning, about 10:00?" Methos nodded, feeling slightly better. Anne stood up, and Methos followed her down the hall. They paused at the door to the playroom Anne had set up, and watched as Mary gleefully put her paint-smattered hands on either side of Duncan's face, leaving tiny purple and red handprints on his cheeks.

"Tell me, Dr. Lindsay," Methos said, with a gleam in his eye, "that paint wouldn't happen to be indelible, would it?"

"No, it's water-based. A little soap, and elbow grease, and it'll come right off." Anne picked Mary up from the floor and into her arms. "Come on, Picasso, let's get you cleaned up for lunch. Be right back," she said over her shoulder.

Duncan looked up from the floor when Methos started chuckling. "Something funny, old man?"

"Nice warpaint you have there, MacLeod," Methos said. "What exactly do you plan to tell people when you see them?"

"What do you mean?"

"Take a look," Methos said, motioning to a small mirror that was hanging up on the wall.

Duncan examined the artwork on his cheeks, then turned to Methos, his expression confused. The older immortal just shook his head, as if dealing with a small child.

"That's paint, MacLeod. It's going to take some time to wear off."

Eyes wide with shock, Duncan looked at himself in the mirror again, examining his face with horror. "But...but...No. Anne...Mary..."

Anne walked back into the room, a cleaned and scrubbed Mary in her arms. Duncan's gaze went from Mary, to the mirror, then back to Mary. Anne stopped in her tracks, wondering what was wrong.

"Duncan?"

"Mary, she's clean. The paint came off."

"Of course it did. Duncan, you didn't actually think I'd let Mary play with something that wouldn't easily wash, did you? I told Adam that a little soap and water would do the trick."

By this time, Methos' laughter had finally penetrated the Highlander's shock, and Duncan turned his furious gaze towards the man. Seeing this, Methos said, "Gotta go," and quickly ran out the front door. Anne and Mary stood and watched as Duncan ran out after him, murmuring dire threats of revenge against the man. Anne just shook her head as she closed the door.

"Mary, take Mommy's word for it, immortals are a very strange breed."

With Anne's approval, Methos told Charlie about he and Duncan her first night home from the hospital. He explained about their immortality, the swords and the Game. He did not tell her everything, for the time being keeping his true identity and past with Kronos to himself. Her emotions ran from disbelief, to shock, fear, wonder, and finally, acceptance. It was the last one that made Methos breathe a little easier.

Knowing that Charlie was uncomfortable with the idea of _having_ a husband she couldn't remember, much less sharing a bed with him, Methos had taken up sleeping on the couch. Charlie usually made sure she was fully dressed before venturing out of their bedroom, and giving him a wide berth to shower and change. So he was surprised when he woke up one morning to find her out in the living room in her nightgown, holding a small, carved figure of a horse that usually sat on the mantle.

He was distracted by the sight of her, with her hair tousled and cheeks flushed with sleep. So it took him a few moments to realize that she was shaking with anger and frustration. Sensing how close she was to giving vent to that anger, he went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass out of the cupboard. Returning to the living room, he gently took the horse from her hand, and replaced it with the glass. She blinked, then looked up at him in puzzlement.

"It will make a more satisfying sound when you throw it. And you won't regret it later."

She searched his face, trying to see if he was making fun of her, but his expression remained serious. With a muffled oath, she turned and hurled the glass against the wall. It shattered with a loud crash, and pieces rained onto the floor.

Charlie just stood there for a minute, looking at the remnants. Then Methos' voice came from behind her.

"Would you like to try for two?"

"No, thank you. One was sufficient."

"You're sure?" he said, going to get the dustpan and broom. "We could move on up to the china. You never did like the pattern on it." He swept the glass into the dustpan, and went to put it in the garbage.

"*I* happen to like those dishes."

"Damn, I had a feeling that wouldn't work."

"You rat! You were hoping I would break up all the dishes that *you* obviously don't like."

He shrugged innocently. "It was worth a try." He turned to get some juice from the fridge.

"Oh, Adam," Charlie crooned softly.

He turned, his face stopping the pillow she had thrown at him. The look on his face was comical, and Charlie couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up.

He looked at her with mock-sterness. "You do realize that this means war."

Charlie let out a little 'yipe' as she grabbed the other pillow off the couch. She and Methos spent the next several minutes chasing each other around the living room, taking shots at each other with the pillows. Methos growled playfully the entire time. Finally, exhausted and breathless with laughter, Charlie flopped onto the couch.

"Uncle, uncle. I give up. You win," she said.

Adam joined her on the couch, watching as she caught her breath. Brushing a strand of hair off her face, and tucking it behind her ear, he said, "Feeling better?"

Charlie looked at him in wonder. "You did all that just to cheer me up?"

"I wanted to hear you laugh."

Lifting a hand to his face, she cupped his cheek. "You're a very nice man, Adam. I'm a lucky woman."

Methos' eyes closed with her first touch, absorbing the feel of her caress. It felt like ages since she'd touched him, and he craved that touch like a thirsty man craves water.

Her hand stilled as she sensed the power of his emotions. "You've missed that, haven't you? You've missed my touch."

He smiled at her. "Every minute."

Tears came to her eyes. "I'm sorry, Adam, I..."

He put a finger up to her lips, stopping her words. "Shh. You have nothing to be sorry about. Charlie, I can't even come close to understanding what you're going through. But I do understand that you aren't comfortable with me right now. I'm not asking you to ignore how you feel. All I'm asking is that you don't shut me out. I couldn't handle that."

"I'll try, Adam."

He nodded, relieved that he hadn't scared her. "So, what would you like to do today?"

"Could we take a walk? Get some fresh air. I've been inside too long."

"Okay. But promise me that you'll tell me if you start getting tired."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you can be a real mother hen?"

"You do. Frequently."

Charlie went to get showered and dressed, then vacated the bedroom so Methos could do the same. Then they left the apartment. It was a beautiful autumn day out, the sun was shining and the wind was mild. The trees were just starting to change color. Charlie breathed in deeply of the cool air, and shyly tucked her hand into her husband's. He looked down at their joined hands, then at her.

"Maybe we could start slowly, kind of let me get used to things again." She chewed her lower lip, uncertain how he would react.

Methos smiled, then brought her hand to his mouth, and gently placed a kiss on her palm. "Start small, and build? Sounds like a plan." They continued their walk for a while, holding hands and enjoying the day. Eventually, they wound up in a park, stopping for awhile on one of the benches.

"Adam, that carving I was holding this morning...it's important to me, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Your father carved it for you when you were a little girl. It's one of your favorite things."

"And the dreamcatcher, the one you brought to the hospital?"

"A gift from a woman named Annie Swallowtail. She was the closest thing you had to a grandmother."

"My parents, and this Annie, where are they now?"

Methos hesitated, remembering the discussion he'd had with Charlie's doctors about the inevitable questions she would have about her life. They had cautioned him about telling her anything upsetting, but Methos figured she'd get more upset if he didn't answer.

"Your parents died in a fire about eight years ago."

"What were they like?"

"I never had the opportunity to meet them. But you always said they were the most wonderful people in the world. From the pictures you have, and the stories you've told me, you were very close to them."

"And Annie?"

"Ah, Annie. Your mother was a researcher, working on a book about Cherokee customs. She went to one of the reservations in Georgia to gather some material, and took you with her. Annie was one of the tribal elders, and your mother talked to her quite frequently. Annie's only son had died many years before, and had left no children. You two sort of adopted each other. You were the grandchild she never had, she was the grandmother you never knew."

"She's dead, too, isn't she?"

"Yes, she died two years ago. She was 97 years old, and still sharp as a tack. She made the dreamcatcher for you and I as a blessing on our marriage."

"Then you met her?"

"Yes, you took me to meet her not long before our wedding. She was a very special woman. And she loved you. We went to visit her a few other times, and we were there when she died."

"The picture on the mantle of the couple holding the baby, are they my parents?"

"Yes."

"And Annie? Do I have any pictures of her?"

"Only one. She didn't like to have her picture taken, but she did let me take one of the two of you, the first time I went there. It's in our wedding album. I'll show it to you when we return, if you like."

"I think I would."

They sat silently for several more minutes, then Methos' stomach started to growl. Charlie laughed.

"Guess we'd better get you fed. How about that diner we passed a ways back? Suddenly, I'm famished." Tucking her hand once more into Methos', they started off down the sidewalk.

The next few weeks went by quickly for Methos. Sticking to Charlie's plan to let her get used to things slowly, he went about courting his wife all over again. And enjoyed every minute of it. They took long walks, and went to concerts in the park. They went to dinner, the movies, and Joe's for drinks and, if Methos had had enough beer, dancing. They even spent quiet nights at home, content to sit on the couch reading. Or necking. The last two nights had ended up in rather heated sessions that made it difficult for him to rein in his passion. Difficult, but not impossible.

Tonight was no exception. They had spent the last twenty minutes on the couch, locked in each others arms, exploring territory that was long familiar to Methos, and becoming so for Charlie. Methos could feel his desire building, and reluctantly halted their enjoyable interlude. Breathing heavily, he gazed down at the woman in his arms. Her lips were swollen, her hair was tousled, her clothing in disarray. But it was the look in her eyes that almost had him giving in to the urge to kiss her just one more time. Those beautiful green eyes of hers, blazing with warmth and passion.

But, he wanted to keep that look from turning to trepidation and fear. He pulled back, smoothing her hair, and smiled softly.

"Umm. As enjoyable as this has been, I think maybe it is time for a breather. How about some coffee?"

Not waiting for an answer, he got up from the couch and moved into the kitchen. He had just gotten the coffee out of the cabinet when he felt her hand on his arm. Looking down into her upturned face, he was frozen by the look of shy desire still brightening her eyes.

"Adam," she said, taking the coffee out of his hands, and returning it to the cabinet. "I don't want any coffee, and I don't think you do, either."

"Charlie," he groaned, "I..." He paused, at a loss for words, and Charlie laughed softly. She reached her arms up around his neck, and pressed herself close to him, from chest to thighs.

"Am I going to have to seduce you, Adam? You may have to show me how, because I don't remember."

Reminded of her amnesia, Adam tried to pull back again. "Charlie, you don't have to..."

"Adam, I do. You've been wonderful these last few weeks, hell, these last few months. But that's not why I'm doing this." She licked her lips in a nervous reaction, and that aroused Methos even more. "I can't remember how I felt about you before waking up in the hospital. But I know how I feel about you now. I love you. I want you, I want to make love to you."

Methos wasn't sure if she actually said the words, or if he heard her thoughts. But gazing into her face, he saw the truth of her statement. Groaning in surrender, he crushed her to him, kissing her deeply, plunging his tongue into the moist depths of her mouth until lack of oxygen forced them to stop for air. Charlie's husky laugh floated up to him.

"Does this mean I won't have to seduce you after all?"

Methos smiled ruefully. "Lady, you seduce me every day just by breathing."

"Breathing, huh? I think I can handle that." Grabbing his hand, she led him into the bedroom.

He laughed. "Yeah, but the question is, can I?"

When Methos opened his eyes the next morning, it was to find Charlie propped up next to him, watching him. "Good morning," she said softly, smiling down at him.

Methos leaned over and kissed her passionately. "Ummm. Yes it is. And it's going to get better." The territory he had explored the night before, he covered again. She felt so good, smelled so good. Assuming Charlie was agreeable, Methos would be quite happy to spend the entire day in...

He felt the buzz of an approaching immortal. Charlie looked at him in puzzlement as he stopped what he was doing.

"Adam?"

"We're having company, love." He got out of bed and pulled on the jeans lying on the floor. Then he grabbed the sword that was nearby. He was about to leave the bedroom when he heard the knock on the front door.

"Adam. Adam, rise and shine, old man."

Methos swore to himself. Damn MacLeod anyway. That boyscout always did have lousy timing. Well, he'd get rid of him soon enough. Heading over to the door, the opened it far enough to look out, but not enough to let Duncan in.

"What is it, MacLeod?" he growled.

"My, my, someone got up on the wrong side of bed this morning."

"Actually, MacLeod, I didn't have any intention of *getting* out of bed today. So, if you don't mind..." He tried to close the door, when Charlie's soft voice came from the door to the bedroom.

"Adam, who is it?"

"It's Duncan, love. And he was just leaving."

Duncan looked past Methos to see Charlie framed in the bedroom doorway, in her robe. Her appearance had the look of a well-loved woman. That, combined with Methos' grouchiness at being pulled out of bed, told Duncan the whole story.

Grinning mischievously at Methos, he feigned a wounded tone. "Fine. Here I am, a lonely old bachelor, come to ask my friends out to breakfast so I won't have to eat all alone." Methos rolled his eyes. "But you obviously have other plans, so I'll go."

Methos didn't hesitate. "Goodbye, MacLeod." And he tried to close the

door.

"Oh, Duncan," Charlie said in sympathy. "You come on in here. There's no need to go out to breakfast, I'll cook." Charlie headed into the kitchen.

Methos reluctantly opened the door, but blocked Duncan's path with the sword he still held. In a low voice, he warned, "You eat, you make your excuses, and then you leave, Highlander. Or I won't be responsible for my actions."

Duncan just chuckled, unconcerned. "Payback's a bitch, isn't it, old man?" Duncan walked into the kitchen to answer Charlie's question about how he preferred his eggs, ignoring Methos' low mutterings about justifiable homicide and taking MacLeod's head.

An hour and a half later, Methos was about ready to throw MacLeod out their fourth floor window. The man had eaten two helpings of eggs, had three cups of coffee, and didn't look prepared to leave anytime soon. Methos' temper was nearing the boiling point when Duncan finally got up to and reached for his coat.

Throwing a glance at Methos, Duncan addressed Charlie. "Breakfast was wonderful, Charlie. Thank you for taking pity on a lonely old bachelor." Methos snorted. Duncan kissed Charlie's cheek, then headed to the door. He paused halfway there, and snapped his fingers like he'd just remembered something important. "By the way, Joe wanted me to ask if you two were still coming to the bar tonight."

Methos looked at Charlie's face, and abandoned all hope of staying in bed with her until tomorrow. He sighed, then looked at MacLeod's smirking face. "We'll be there. But if we're a little late, _don't _come looking for us."

Throwing Methos a salute, he said, "I'll keep that in mind. See ya."

Charlie started to fill up the sink, when Methos came over and turned off the faucet. Picking her up in his arms, he headed towards the bedroom to pick up where they had left off earlier. Burying her face in his neck, Charlie decided the dishes could wait.

They stayed at Joe's for hours, talking and laughing with these people that Charlie was coming to like all over again. So it was a little before closing when Methos put his arm over Charlie's shoulder.

"Well, gentlemen, I believe it's time I got my wife home."

"But I'm not tired, Adam."

Methos gave her a playful leer. "Neither am I."

Charlie blushed, but stood up and reached for her coat. After saying their good-byes to Joe and Duncan, they left the bar. Enjoying the full moon, they walked the short distance to their apartment.

"Adam?"

"Hmm."

"Before the accident, did I know your real name?"

Methos stopped and stared at her with a pensive expression. "You caught the slips that Joe and MacLeod made, didn't you?"

She nodded. Methos rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to go about this. But he knew he couldn't keep this from her any longer. "I'll tell you everything when we get home."

They walked a little further, Methos trying to figure out how to start this conversation, when Charlie's voice interupted.

"You're worried about this. Why? Are you afraid I'll betray your trust?"

"Oh God, no, Charlie," Methos hastened to reassure her. "It's just that telling you who I am will also mean telling you about the things I've done. I'm afraid, yes. Not that you'll betray my trust, but that I'll have betrayed yours. There are things I've done in my past that are truly horrible. I'm not sure I could live with it if you turned away from me because of them."

"Did I know about these things before the accident?"

"Yes."

"And I had accepted them?"

"Yes."

"Has the accident changed me that much that you think I couldn't accept them again? Is that why you didn't tell me in the beginning?" Methos could hear the note of hurt that creeped into her voice.

"At first, I didn't want to upset you. News about my immortality was shocking enough, without dumping all of it on you. Then, once you became strong enough to handle hearing it, I became afraid that I would lose you. Not because of an accident this time, but because of my past, my own actions. I never meant to hurt you."

Methos could feel her eyes on him, searching. But she didn't say anything more, and they continued their walk home.

They hadn't gone much further, when Methos suddenly stopped and looked around. Charlie was coming to recognize that look on his face, and knew another of his kind was nearby. Then a man stepped out into their path, and stood, waiting.

Methos never looked away from the man, as he said to Charlie, "Love, head back to Duncan and Joe and stay there."

"Adam..."

"Please, just go." He waited until he had heard her footsteps going back the way they had come, before he pulled out his sword.

The other man did the same. "I'm Jason Whittier," he said, obviously expecting the name to mean something to the other man. It didn't.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Methos asked in a bored tone.

"No, just afraid."

"Sorry, it's against my religion to be afraid on Friday's. Maybe another time."

The two men circled each other warily, Methos waiting for Whittier to make his move, Whittier trying to goad Methos.

"You never did tell me your name."

"Does it really matter?" Methos said.

"I suppose not. I'll find out when I take your head." Methos just smiled, not rising to the bait. Whittier tried again. "But I would like to know the name of your charming companion. She'll need comforting once you're dead. Who was she?"

"No one you need to concern yourself with."

"Fine. Don't tell me. I'll find out. I'll take your head, then I'll take your little whore."

Whittier obviously wanted to make his opponent angry enough to do something stupid, and Methos had no intention of giving him that edge. Whittier's eyes narrowed as he studied the other man, realizing that this wasn't going as planned. But no matter. Whittier was confident in his abilities, and with a flurry of moves, the fight was on.

Meanwhile, Charlie had run the two blocks back to Joe's and burst through the door. Duncan was helping Joe clean up behind the bar, and looked up when Charlie rushed in.

"Duncan, Adam's in trouble!"

"What do you mean, where is he?"

Charlie grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards the door. "A man, one of you. Adam sent me back here. Come on, we have to go."

Duncan tried to stop her, but her fear was making her stronger than usual. "Charlie, Charlie wait. Let me get my coat." He grabbed his coat, and with it, his sword, before Charlie rushed him out the door.

Charlie was rushing, pulling Duncan by the arm. Her link with her husband made her aware of his fear, and his anger, though she could sense he was keeping a tight rein on them.

When they got close enough to hear the sounds of the fight, Duncan stopped, and forcibly halted Charlie. She struggled to get away, to head towards Adam, but Duncan stopped her.

"Charlie. Charlie, listen to me. Listen." He lightly shook her. "Charlie, I can't interfere. That's the rule. Adam was challenged, this is his fight."

"I don't care about your damn rules, Duncan, only about Adam." She pulled away from him, and ran ahead. Duncan followed, worried about Methos and Charlie.

Duncan saw Charlie halt a few yards away. The sounds of swords clanging against each other was louder. But when he got close enough to see, it was to find Whittier on his knees. The headhunter's sword was only a foot away from him, but his hands were occupied trying to keep his insides from spilling out onto the ground. Seconds later, this became unneccesary, as his head was separated from his body.

Duncan grabbed Charlie, and pulled her to safety behind some metal trash dumpsters before the light show started. The storm seemed to go on forever, but Duncan had his hands full trying to keep Charlie behind cover. She kept scrambling, trying to get to her husband, whose body was being ravished by Whittier's quickening.

Quiet returned to the alley, as he fell to the pavement. He hurt all over, was completely exhausted. But he was more worried about Charlie. He sensed her near, knew she had seen this. Dear God, what would she think of him?

He sensed movement, felt someone kneeling down next to him, but was too weary to even raise his head. Then he felt her hands, turning him over. He ended up on his back with his head on her lap, looking up into her face. He didn't know what he expected to see when he looked into her eyes:fear, revulsion, horror? What he did see made his heart beat faster, and hope soared. Shining out of her eyes was love, trust and relief. She gently ran her fingers through his hair.

"Methos. Are you all right, my love?"

"Charlie?"

She nodded in answer to his unspoken question. "Yes, I remember. I remember everything." She leaned down and kissed him on the lips. "I love you, Methos." She kissed him again, and for several minutes, they just held onto each other.

Then they were joined by Duncan, and Joe, who had driven up from the bar.

Methos got to his feet, helped by his friends. Duncan picked up Methos' sword and handed it to him.

"You doing all right, Adam?"

"I'm fine, MacLeod. Better than fine, actually. Charlie's gotten her memory back. She knows my real name." They walked to the car and headed to the apartment. Once there, Methos went to take a shower, after having convinced Charlie to call Anne and let her know that her memory had come back. He wanted to make sure that Charlie was okay.

When he returned to the living room, he found Anne sitting on the couch next to Charlie. She was just putting her blood pressure cuff away, and then checked Charlie's pupils, asking questions the entire time.

"Did you have any dizziness, either when your memory returned, or since? Any headaches or blurred vision?"

"Well, I felt a little shaky, but not dizzy. No blurred vision or headaches." Methos sat down next to her, and she leaned back against him gratefully. "I feel more overwhelmed than anything. And relieved. I'm putting names to faces again. I remember my parents, my friends. It feels good to remember."

"Well, I don't see anything wrong. Your vitals are all normal, pupils are equal and reactive. Since you didn't experience any dizziness or blurred vision, there shouldn't be any further problems. But I would still like to do a CAT scan, just as a precaution. Can you come in tomorrow about noon?" Charlie nodded, and Anne smiled. "Until then, I recommend that you get rid of your visitors and rest. I'll see you tomorrow." Then Anne quickly ushered both Joe and Duncan out, leaving the couple alone.

They sat silently on the couch for several minutes, both thankful that things were returning to normal. Charlie snuggled against Methos, then got up. Putting out her hand, she led Methos into the bedroom.

Two weeks later, they were again at Joe's bar, finally celebrating their fifth wedding anniversary. Everyone present was aware of how special this party was, knowing how close Charlie had come to dying. So no one said anything when the guests of honor kept disappearing into Joe's office during the evening, returning flushed and disheveled.

The food had been devoured, the drinks had flowed and the music had played. The couple had been toasted by everyone in the room, and gifts had been given. Duncan had given Charlie a brooch that belonged to his mother, and gifted Adam with a small dagger that his father had owned. Amanda had given them a beautiful set of pewter wine goblets, the stems made to resemble figures. One was a knight holding a sword, the other a medieval lady. She'd had their names and wedding date engraved on them.

Richie, unable to make it due to the weather in California, had left his gift with Duncan when he was in town the last time. He gave Methos a collection of every CD Queen had ever recorded, and Charlie got headphones so she didn't have to listen to it.

Joe had given Charlie a book of poems by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, with the poetess' signature on the inside cover. For Methos, he burned his bar tab, joking that the fire department was on standby in case the blaze got out of control.

Charlie sighed in mock relief. "Thank Goodness! I was afraid we were going to have to take out some kind of mortgage in order to pay that off." She winked at Methos, then handed him her gift.

He took care unwrapping the package, and caught his breath when he saw what was inside. There, wrapped in tissue, was a small Grecian pitcher, with the figures of Apollo and Aphrodite on either side. Charlie gently maneuvered it so he could see the bottom. There, etched into the fired clay, was the letter 'M', as visible now as it had been when he'd first created it, all those centuries ago. Carefully returning the pitcher to its box, he kissed Charlie.

"Thank you, love. It's an incredible gift, almost as priceless as you. I tried to think of what I could give you to show you how special you are to me, how much you've given me. So, I made arrangements for someone to visit you." He took Charlie by the shoulders and turned her around. Standing behind her was an older man, in his early sixties, beaming at her.

"Reverend O'Malley!" she cried, throwing her arms around the man.

"Charlotte, my darlin', how are you?" the man asked, clearly gratified by the warm reception.

"Oh, I'm fine. It's so wonderful to see you. Have you met my husband?" She turned and grabbed Methos' hand, pulling him forward. "Adam, this is Reverend O'Malley, our preacher when I was growing up. Reverend, this is my husband, Adam."

"My yes, girl. Your young man and I have been talking quite a bit over the last few months." He looked down at Charlie. "I thank the Lord that you recovered, my girl. I was worried about you. When I showed up here that night, and was told that you'd been in an accident, I was beside myself, I was. But I knew your young man would take good care of you. I stayed for a few days, but he convinced me that my parishoners needed me. I returned home, but he kept me updated on your condition."

Charlie was confused. "You were here the night of my accident?"

"Adam had asked me to fly in, as part of his anniversary present to you."

"It's wonderful to see you, but I'm not sure I understand."

Methos put his arms around her. "I wanted to do something special for you. You'd talked about Reverend O'Malley with such fondness, I figured you'd be overjoyed to see him. Besides, he's integral to the second part of my gift."

"What's that?"

"I want to renew our vows, and to have Reverend O'Malley officiate."

Charlie's eyes filled with tears, her love for this man overwhelming her. She nodded, and the three moved up towards the small dias that Joe used as a stage. The crowd was quiet, and some muffled sniffles could be heard, as well as whispers of 'how romantic' and 'oh, that's so sweet'.

Reverend O'Malley turned to face the couple, taking out a small bible, and began.

"Do you, Adam Pierson, take this woman..."


End file.
